Father's Day
by Richefic
Summary: Set preseason One. Its Tony's first year as a Probie at NCIS. As they appraoch the third Sunday in June Gibbs temper gets increasingly shorter. Tony is very much afraid he's about to pay the price.


AN – Another story I wasn't going to write. Grins. But a review from Ivy3 pointed out that cannon doesn't show Tony aware of Gibbs first family – an assumption which, has always been part of my universe – so I decided I needed to address that and a single paragraph became this story. This is set in the very early days of Tony's tenure at NCIS pre-Kate. I also have ideas for other Father's Days in subsequent years, which may eventually see the light of day. For now, this is a stand-alone.

Disclaimer – A not for profit enterprise.

* * *

The first year he had been at NCIS no one had warned him that Gibbs turned into a bigger bastard than usual around the third week of June. Although, he supposed he should have guessed. It didn't help that Gibbs' acting senior field Agent, Dawn Roberts, learning from bitter experience, had chosen that week to take a few days leave, meaning that the team was short handed and Tony was left alone to bear the full force of Gibbs' temper.

"Its like I can't do anything right," Tony complained as he paced across Abby's lab. "This morning he bit my head off because I came into work too early."

"Its not your fault," Abby soothed. "Gibbs is always kinda of a bear at this time of year. He's probably just worried that you are working too hard. And he's still talking to you, which is good. Because if he was really mad he would just ignore you."

"Oh, I'm getting lots of attention," Tony rubbed the back of his head in remembrance. "Yesterday, he slapped the back of my head four times, in one day!"

"You did kind of put yourself in the line of fire." Abby pointed out unhappily.

"I was negotiating with the suspect."

"You stepped right up to him and dared him to shoot you!"

"I knew Gibbs had my six, bedsides it worked, didn't it?" Tony shook his head. "I don't see what he had to get so mad about."

"You really don't do you?" Abby looked sad.

"Well, I'm going to be paying for it now, Gibbs has decided that I need a little refresher in hand to hand. The mood he's been in this week he's probably going to beat the crap out of me," Tony ran a hand through his hair and for a moment his confidence faltered as he considered that prospect. "Any advice?"

Abby bit her lip, she didn't think Gibbs would really hurt Tony but, he had been on an especially short fuse this week and he really didn't take kindly to his Agents being reckless, especially when he cared about them as deeply as she knew he cared about Tony.

"Wear a cup." She nodded seriously.

* * *

Tony hadn't missed the looks of gleeful anticipation mixed with a few sympathetic grimaces, which came his way as he walked across the NCIS gym. He was popular enough with most of the other Agents, for a Probie, but some of the more experienced NCIS personnel had moved from being openly scornful that the 'rich kid, pretty boy, cop' wouldn't last ten seconds with Gunny Gibbs, to simmering resentful that he was apparently on course for a permanent spot in the prestigious major crimes team.

Tony knew that there were more than a few people in this room who would enjoy watching him get what they thought he deserved. Bravely he pasted a smile over the hollow feeling in his gut as Gibbs approached.

"You ready, DiNozzo?" Gibbs climbed up and into the ring without looking at him.

"As I'll ever be." Tony murmured softly, as he followed suit, not noticing how the ex-marine's eyes narrowed sharply in concern as his keen hearing caught the muttered comment. By the time he straightened up, Gibbs had schooled his features into a neutral mask.

"Try not to do any permanent damage, hey Boss?" As he looked into those electric blue eyes Tony couldn't help but feel a little scared of what was to come. The man was a Marine, he knew how to fight, and while Tony had sparred with him several times before the ex-gunny had never been quite this pissed before. Tony was resigned to taking the brunt of his wrath but that didn't mean he wouldn't at least try and talk him out of it. "The paperwork is a nightmare, not to mention it's a hell of a job to get the blood out of this floor."

"You going to talk, or fight, DiNozzo?"

As he raised his gloves, Tony was acutely aware of the silence settling over the gym as most of the other Agents stopped what they were doing to watch the action, unbidden he felt a flush of mortification heat his cheeks as he realised that he was gonna get creamed and there wasn't a dammed thing he could do about it.

Deciding that if he had to die of embarrassment, he could at least go down fighting Tony made the first jab, trying to catch Gibbs on the jaw, a move the ex-gunny easily blocked.

"Not bad," Gibbs' murmured comment surprised him, his voice pitched too low for their audience to hear but, loud enough for Tony's sensitive hearing to catch. "Try not to go too wide through, you leave yourself open."

Blinking slightly, Tony's brow furrowed in confusion, but Gibbs' expression gave nothing away. Deciding to take his Boss' advice, Tony tried again, this time making respectable contact with Gibbs' jaw and pushing his head back slightly.

"Better," Gibbs praised, "Now go for a body shot."

Accustomed to following orders, Tony did as he was instructed, only to feel Gibbs' glove connect solidly with his own jaw.

"Don't drop your guard like that," Gibbs instructed calmly. "Keep your left hand up. Try again."

They continued to trade blows, Tony's confidence gradually increasing as Gibbs coached him sotto voice, the marine's steady praise and constructive criticism reassurance in themselves, even as the blows became faster and stronger, that he wasn't about to take his temper out on the younger man and beat the living daylights out of him.

After a while, Tony could taste the copper of blood in his mouth and feel the warmth of bruises rising but the answering image of Gibbs with a cut above his eye had him grinning like a maniac. As they circled each other the ex-gunny grinned back in perfect accord and Tony felt better than he had all week. Around them the crowd had begun to murmur in appreciation and muted respect, as he held his own. Emboldened, Tony decided to profit a little from Gibbs coaching, waited until he saw the perfect opening, and landed a sweet upper cut that split Gibbs lip slightly against his teeth, rocking his head back.

"Not bad, DiNozzo," Gibbs' grin was proud and wide as he spoke loud enough for all to hear. "Not bad at all."

Tony had about two seconds to bask in the glow of that public endorsement, before Gibbs laid him out, and he found himself lying flat on his back on the canvas, still grinning as all around them the gym erupted into whoops and cheers. Wordlessly, Gibbs tore off his glove with his teeth and offered DiNozzo a hand up, grasping his wrist firmly and holding on as he found his feet, before clapping him briskly on the back with one gloved hand.

As the crowd melted away, Tony looked back at his Boss, affection and immense gratitude shining from his eyes.

"Thanks, Boss."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs looked uncomfortable, opening his mouth as if to say something profound, then abruptly changing his tack. "Dinner. My place. 19.30 hours. Don't be late."

Tony pondered the invitation as he rubbed shampoo into his hair and rinsed off the sweat and effort from the fight. He'd been to Gibbs' place often enough. He'd even stayed there for a while when he first arrived in Washington but, the ex-marine certainly hadn't seemed in the mood to be socialising this week.

* * *

Deciding that it wouldn't hurt to be polite he picked up some beer and pulled into Gibbs' driveway at exactly 19.28. Pausing on the doorstep for a moment, he gathered his courage, before pushing the door open and sticking his head into the hallway.

"Gibbs?"

"In the kitchen."

Toeing off his shoes and putting the beer aside so he could shrug out of his coat, Tony hung it up on the rack, before re-claiming the beer and padding, a little uncertainly into the kitchen.

"Brought some beer, Boss."

Gibbs was dressed casually in faded jeans and an old NIS T-shirt as he busied himself stirring something on the stove.

"You know where the refrigerator is." Gibbs tipped his head. "There's some cold ones in there."

Tony nodded his thanks, even though Gibbs had his back to him, and opened the door, taking a moment to move a few items around, making space for the unopened six-pack, before snagging one of the cold ones.

"So, what's for dinner?" He tried making conversation.

"Lemon roasted chicken, with mashed potatoes, biscuits and gravy," Gibbs surprised him. "And hot peach pie with ice-cream for dessert."

Tony blinked. He had once told Gibbs, during a long and very boring stakeout, that that was his favourite home-cooked meal as a child. He remembered he'd complained that he never got it nearly often enough, because his parents own tastes had tended towards fancy French cuisine. He'd never really expected Gibbs to remember, never mind go to all the trouble of cooking it for him.

"Am I being fired?" He blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs gave him a look of pure exasperation. "Sit down."

Tony slid into one of the places laid on the kitchen table and watched as Gibbs carved slices of chicken and laid them out on two plates, adding a bowl of mashed potatoes, a jug of gravy and a platter of biscuits, before taking his own seat.

"Dig in."

Tony didn't need telling twice, the food smelled and tasted delicious, after days of living mostly on soda and candy bars, the occasional hurried sandwich at his desk, or takeout that was cold and greasy by the time he got around to eating it, this hit the spot.

"S'good, Boss." He complimented, around a mouthful of food.

"Anything would taste good to you, DiNozzo, after the crap you've been eating all week." Gibbs groused.

Tony paused with a forkful of food halfway to his mouth, not so much surprised that Gibbs had noticed, the man noticed everything after all but that he had felt moved to comment.

"Didn't think you cared, Boss." He quipped, not quite as lightly as he had intended.

"Is that why you faced down Davies?" Gibbs asked in a deceptively mild tone. "Because you didn't think I'd care if I had to watch your brains get spread all over the sidewalk?"

"First Abby, now you," Tony shook his head. "I don't know why every is making such a fuss about this. I knew you had my six. There was no way Davies was going to get that shot off without you taking him out."

Gibbs blinked at the tone of absolute trust in his probationary Agent's tone. Right now, it was more than he felt he deserved.

"You feel like that at the gym today?"

"Actually, Boss," Tony decided honest was the only way to go. "I thought you were going to kick my ass. And there were plenty of people there ready to enjoy the show."

"They're just jealous," Gibbs dismissed that. "You're a good Agent Tony and you've proved yourself time and again. I don't ever want to hear you doubt yourself like that again. You hear me?"

"Kinda seemed like I had it coming, Boss," Tony retorted. "The way you've been on my case all week."

Gibbs sighed. The younger man had a point. He had been harder on him that usual. Not least after he had seen him stand up to Davies like he had some kind of dammed death wish. Over the past few months he had come to realise how much the younger man meant to him. He didn't think he could bear to lose him like that. But he also knew if he didn't shape up he would just end up pushing him away.

He'd done it before.

"Its not you, DiNozzo," Gibbs admitted wearily. "You've done a fine job of holding things together while Dawn was out. You might make senior field Agent yourself one day, if you could just cut the crap once in a while."

"I'll try to bear that in mind, Boss," Tony nodded seriously. "Anything I can help you with?"

Gibbs had to swallow hard. He had put the kid through hell all this week and, DiNozzo who he knew had his own less than perfect family situation, was the last person who deserved to bear the brunt of his pain this close to father's day. Yet, here he was, offering to have his six like he hadn't been convinced earlier that day that his bastard of a Boss was about to take his crappy mood out on him and beat the hell of out him.

"Actually, DiNozzo there is," Gibbs looked up. "You can remember that we're partners. You don't have to be afraid of me. I might chew on your ass from time to time or slap you across the back of the head when you've dammed well deserved it, but I will never humiliate you in public and I _will_ beat the crap out of anyone else who tries to. Are we clear?"

"You know, about my father, don't you?" Tony sighed softly, embarrassment colouring his cheeks.

"You know about my first wife and daughter." Gibbs met his eyes.

He wasn't surprised. DiNozzo was an investigator after all and when he had decided to jump ship from Baltimore he had put all his faith and trust, not in NCIS, but a certain Leroy Jethro Gibbs. It was only natural that the kid would want to know if the gunny was really as good as his word.

"I'm sorry," Tony told him sincerely. "I'll bet you were a great, Dad."

Hearing the wistful tone in the normally so self-assured Agent's tone Gibbs regarded him thoughtfully. Tony was shaping up to be a great investigator and a good friend but he had assumed that the younger man was too old to need the love and support of a father in his life. He might have been wrong about that.

"Abby knows," Gibbs confided. "The others don't. I'd just as soon keep it that way."

"Whatever you say, Boss."

Gibbs nodded, as if the conversation was over. But as they finished dinner he was already formulating his plans for Anthony DiNozzo. Getting up he went to the refrigerator and pulled out two fresh beers, waiting until Tony took a long drink, before speaking.

"That's your second beer," He advised curtly. "You better not think you are driving home."

"I can get a cab." Tony assured him.

"You can sleep in the spare room," Gibbs told him. "Its Saturday tomorrow. We're not on call. You can help me with the boat. Breakfast at 08.30."

"Don't I at least get a lie in?" Tony felt the pouting was required, even though he was secretly delighted to be asked.

"08.30 is a lie in, DiNozzo." Gibbs said dryly.

He thought he probably had some flour, and he knew there was eggs and milk in the refrigerator, and that bottle of Maple Syrup shaped like a Canadian Mountie that Abby had brought him back from that forensics conference last month. He could always put it in a jug.

On Sunday, if the weather held, they could charter a boat. Gibbs already knew that DiNozzo was a middling to good sailor, and that he was at his happiest when constantly in motion, after the week they had had, a few hours out on the water would do them both good. And maybe this Father's Day would be a chance to build some new memories.

For both of them.


End file.
